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Red Angels and White Devils
Red Angels and White Devils Written by Ginger and Clever P R O L O G U E The night was quiet. The only sounds that arose were the gentle snoring of the ThunderClan cats and a few, late-night cicadas that chirped lazily. The Moon was low in the sky, purple haze drifting across it and white stars sparkling. But Jasminekit was restless. The small tabby she-cat was uncomfortably flipping from side to side, sniffling through a clogged nose, her eyes squeezed forcibly shut. Her throat itched, and every swallow pained her. She shifted in her nest, unable to find a comfortable position. She was grateful that Aspenheart wasn’t disturbed by her movement, and therefore, stayed asleep. However, all of this awoke her sister, Mosskit, who, on the other paw, was having a good, restful sleep. She raised her head drowsily, her pale eyes narrowed. She twitched her nose, opening her mouth slightly to speak. “Sister, are you okay?” the grey and white kit asked. Ever since they were young, Mosskit and Jasminekit rarely referred to each other by their full names. It was either ‘sister, Jazz, Mossy,’ or something of a similar caliber. “Yeah... I’m fine.” Jasminekit squeaked. She wasn’t fine, though. Her stomach was twisting. She wasn’t sure if it was from hunger, exhaustion, or sickness. But she didn’t feel well in the slightest. She began to sweat, feeling her head burn up. “Just fine.” She shifted slightly, averting her steaming eyes from Mosskit. Mosskit gave Jasminekit a perplexed look, refusing to leave her alone. Clearly, her sister wasn’t alright. She prodded Aspenheart with her small paw. “Momma? Momma wake up.” Mosskit spoke in a soft voice. She poked at the queen persistently until she yawned, stifling a groan. The larger cat turned her head, pale blue eyes flickering open. “What is it, dear?” Despite only just waking up, Aspenheart spoke with a tone that could not be described as ‘groggy.’ “Jazz is sick. I think you should help her,” Mosskit mewled. Her voice was twinged with nervousness. Loud crinkling was heard as Aspenheart sat up in her nest and pulled Jasminekit closer to her. “Alright, babe. What’s wrong?” Aspenheart cooed. Jasminekit wriggled uncomfortably. “My head hurts. My stomach is flip flopping, and my legs are sore,” she mewed, her voice scared. Her mother touched her forehead, which was burning. “Oh my,” Aspenheart sounded worried. “Jazzy, can you stand up?” Jasminekit nodded her head slightly, rising up from her nest. Her legs wobbled, and with a squeak they crumpled beneath her and fell to the ground. “Momma, I feel so sick,” she complained. The queen pulled Mosskit closer to her, and whispered in her ear. “Can you go fetch Briarheart for me? Don’t bother Iciclepaw, she hasn’t been an apprentice long enough to know what to do.” Mosskit nodded, eyes widening. She scampered out of the nursery. Cool night air blasted her in the face. She hadn’t been outside much, being a kit, and had never been out at night. It looked so different! The sky was dark and stars shimmered brightly in the sky. Unfortunately, Mosskit didn’t have the time to stop and look at the scenery. She was on a mission. She waddled across camp and towards the den. Ancient vines draped across the entrance, shading the dark inside. The tabby was going to press through the ferns when someone’s voice sounded behind her. “What are you doing?” It was Redpaw, a popular apprentice. His ginger fur rippled in the night wind, moonlight staining it light. His eyes glinted, waiting for an answer. Mosskit squealed and crouched, tucking her tail between her legs. “M-my sister... sh-she’s s-sick.” Mosskit trembled anxiously. “I’m l-looking for th-the medici-cine cat...” Redpaw blinked. “Briarheart is out. She’s getting herbs. Iciclepaw is in there, if you want,” the apprentice meowed. Mosskit shook her head quickly. “I-i’ll just go g-get Br-briarheart then...” Mosskit ducked her head and started to pad towards the camp entrance. Redpaw, a confused look on his face, blocked the way with his small body. “You’re a kit. You can’t leave camp. I’ll get Briarheart, and I’ll be back soon.” Redpaw dropped down so that he was at eye level with the young kit. “Okay? Your sister is going to be fine,” he said, and sped off into the night. Mosskit watched him in awe, legs pressed close together. She tip-toed back to the nursery. “Redpaw is getting Briarheart. She’s out,” Mosskit informed Aspenheart. The queen’s gaze darkened. Mosskit gently lied down beside Jasminekit, nuzzling her burning-hot ears. “You’ll be okay, sister... you’ll be okay.” Jasminekit was not okay. Her stomach felt weak as she convulsed, and it felt like a badger was trying to claw out of her. Her mind reeled with a painful headache, trying to drive it away by pounding her head against the nest. The tabby’s legs were restless and kept shifting left and right. “My sweet baby,” Aspenheart mewed, tears spiking her eyes. Time ticked by. It felt like an eternity. Suddenly, a tom burst through the entrance of the nursery. It was Redpaw, ginger fur ruffled from running. “Briarheart’s here,” he meowed, out of breath. He plunked down on the ground, inhaling deeply. The medicine cat, twitching her nose, rushed into the den, herbs clamped in her mouth. Mosskit’s lips were drawn back in a frown, eyes wide with terror as Briarheart gently pulled Jasminekit up. “How are you feeling?” she whispered. The kitten looked at her dully with glazed eyes before retching forward and vomiting. The older cat’s brow wrinkled. “Can you stand?” Jasminekit shook her head slowly. Briarheart touched her paw to Jasminekit’s forehead. “Oh my,” she mewed. She held out a couple small leaves that were hooked on her claw. “Can you eat these?” she asked. Mosskit watched, horrified, as her sister lurched forward to eat the leaves, and threw up once again when the herbs hit the back of her throat. Mosskit backed up, towards the walls of the den, feeling her stomach rile up. “Jazz,” she murmured. Briarheart looked at Aspenheart, whose eyes glimmered with fear. She was so scared of losing her youngest daughter. “I’m sorry. I can’t help Jasminekit.” Aspenheart drew in her breath deeply, a squeal escaping her lips as tears rolled down her face. Jasminekit glanced up, the medicine cat’s words barely registering. The white noise that quickly grew in her ears was drowning out all sounds. She puked, her throat burning as only bile dripped out. “Oh, Jazzy.” Aspenheart pulled the tabby kitten close. “I’m so sorry, babe. I love you so, so, so much. My sweet, tiny daughter.” She pressed her tear-soaked face to Jasminekit. Mosskit crept closer. Redpaw’s ears were pinned down, hot with shame, as if he was punishing himself for her death. He wasn’t fast enough. “Sister,” the grey and white kit mewled. “I’ll miss you. I love you.” The tears came to her eyes as well. And as the light died from Jasminekit’s eyes, her face was turned towards Redpaw. When the last of her being drained away, she was no longer in pain, or felt sick. Instead, her small body was filled with vengeance. Chapter One “Redpaw, are you paying attention?” Redpaw shook his head furiously at Birchstorm’s sharp words. Realizing that he was, in fact, not paying attention, he blinked up innocently at the cross tan tom. “Of course, Birchstorm,” he purred. Birchstorm rolled his eyes. The warrior was usually calm and reasonable, but courtesy of Redpaw, that didn’t happen as often. Birchstorm stared at his apprentice flatly. “Do you want to train, or not?” He snapped, having none of Redpaw’s mock sappiness. Redpaw’s eyes widened at his mentor’s sharp tone. “StarClan, can’t you let me have just one good session with you? At least on the day Mosskit is going to become an apprentice?” Redpaw’s mouth gaped in an o'' of understanding. He had completely forgot about Birchstorm’s daughter, Mosskit. ''Of course you would, mousebrain, he scolded himself. No wonder Birchstorm seems stressed today, especially after what happened with Jasminekit. Redpaw suppressed a shiver. He had especially avoided Mosskit after the death of her sister, mainly because he had seen the fragile kit collapse for the last time. “Sorry, Birchstorm,” he meowed, dipping his head. “I can stay in camp today. You can help Aspenflight prepare Mosskit.” Redpaw knew he had touched Birchstorm’s soft spot. The sandy tom’s forced frown began to fade into a smile. “Even though I’m the mentor here,” he replied with a wave of his tail, “I wouldn’t miss Mosskit’s ceremony for the world.” “I’ll still be your favorite apprentice?” Redpaw purred jokingly, leaning against his mentor. Birchstorm gave him a mischievous glance. “Now you’re pushing your luck,” he replied wryly. Together, the two cats trekked towards ThunderClan’s camp, and Redpaw couldn’t help but think how much of a father Birchstorm was to him. His real father, Fleetfeather, had been killed in a battle soon after he became an apprentice. So that makes it three… no, four moons since his death, Redpaw reminded himself. He wondered if now that Mosskit was out of the nursery, Birchstorm wouldn’t be as good a mentor and focus on his daughter. But he was a sensible cat. Besides, Darkbee didn’t abandon her duties to pamper Redpaw- though he wished sometimes she would. The moment, the two cats ducked through the barrier, a stampede consisting of all the other apprentices- Smokepaw, Badgerpaw, and Iciclepaw- raced towards them. Upon seeing them, Birchstorm immediately slipped away. “Redpaw! Redpaw!” Badgerpaw called. “Whose claws are longer? Mine or Smokepaw’s?” “First of all, mine are,” Smokepaw retorted. He was glaring at his sister, neck fur raising. “Second of all, no one cares.” “I do,” Iciclepaw panted, scrambling to a halt beside the others. Redpaw felt both bad and humored for the small she-cat, constantly worrying and darting everywhere. She looked directly at Redpaw, who was startled by the amount of tiredness in her eyes. “Badgerpaw managed to scratch herself running around with her claws unsheathed,” she explained. “So I would appreciate it if you went to go see Briarheart-” “Why Briarheart?” Badgerpaw’s head tipped to the side. “Aren’t you a medicine cat? Can’t you heal it yourself? It’s just a scratch.” “Because Briarheart will claw my ears if I do anything without- oh, nevermind your scratch,” Iciclepaw groaned. “Go suffer if you don’t care.” “I’ll escort her,” Smokepaw offered, sticking his tongue out at Badgerpaw. “Looks like you’re going to have to retire due to injury, Badgerpaw! Don’t worry; elders get fed first. But with your appetite, maybe the elders are the only ones that get fed!” Badgerpaw hissed, and the two siblings disappeared. Redpaw turned to Iciclepaw, who dropped her straightened pose. “How’s training?” Redpaw asked nonchalantly, still weirded out by the sleepy look in her eyes. “Getting enough rest?” “I can answer both thanks to Briarheart: excruciating, and no,” the normally calm and fretting apprentice shrugged. Redpaw briefly remembered that Briarheart was Iciclepaw’s aunt, so of course she’d be hard on the little apprentice. “I’ve just been having bad time sleeping. Crazy dreams, I guess.” Redpaw’s ears pricked with curiosity, but he forced himself to remain unexcited. Medicine cats aren’t allowed to share their dreams, he reminded himself. “Have you told them to Briarheart?” He suggested. “She doesn’t listen to me,” Iciclepaw replied, looking quite miserable. "She thinks only important cats can receive prophecies, omens- that kind of stuff.” “Well, sometimes dreams are weird,” Redpaw replied, shrugging. “Smokepaw was really messed up dreams- just last night I woke up to him sleep talking about being held hostage and eating cat.” Redpaw shivered at the reminder. Smokepaw was strange. “My dreams are weird, but not that weird,” Iciclepaw dismissed, “and anyway, it’s nothing. I’ve just been seeing this shadow calling out to me, and that’s it. It’s probably Milkleaf’s complaints getting to my head.” “Whatcha’ talkin’ about?” Badgerpaw piped up, padding over with her tail kinked up. Iciclepaw hadn’t seen her and shot straight up in shock. “Apprentice stuff,” Redpaw replied quickly. He nodded at Badgerpaw, whose eyebrows raised. “Who do you think will be Mosskit’s mentor?” “Maybe Darkbee, or Splashfeather,” Badgerpaw meowed thoughtfully. She turned and looked around camp for more potential mentors as Iciclepaw licked her chest in embarrassment. “Archclaw. I would suggest Sandheart, but I’m, like, eighty percent sure she’s pregnant.” Redpaw reeled forwards and gave a snort of shock and disbelief. “Pregnant? I thought she was just eating too much!” He declared, a little too loud. Iciclepaw shushed him, and he continued softly, “Who would even want to be her mate?” Badgerpaw’s eyes widened. “I know, right?” She whispered, eyes flickering as the sandy she-cat strolled up to the fresh-kill pile. “She needs to chill sometimes. I overheard Hollystream tell Darkbee the father might be a rogue, and-” “Okay, first of all, we don’t even know she’s expecting,” Iciclepaw defended Sandheart. “Second of all, I’m starving, so toodles.” At the medicine cat’s words, Redpaw was reminded of the pang in his belly. Badgerpaw shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she meowed, standing and beginning to pad off. “I just ate.” “She’s always eating,” Redpaw meowed as he and Iciclepaw made their way toward the fresh-kill pile. He felt a small twinge of happiness as Iciclepaw gave a mrow of laughter. He turned towards the white cat as they reached the pile. “Share a sparrow?” Iciclepaw had begun to nod when Goldenstar strode up to Highrock. Cats had already begun to gather expectantly. Aspenflight was grooming Mosskit furiously. “Will all cats able to hunt gather below the Highrock for a Clan meeting?” Goldenstar boomed. The large tom looked down at his Clan fondly. “We have a ceremony to complete, and it’s always my favorite to preform. Mosskit, will you step forward please?” Chapter Two Category:Warriorlover12345 Category:XXGingerheartXx Category:Collabs